


The Kind of Love You Never Forget

by starrylynz



Category: Bandom, MCR - Fandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-07-19 12:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7360642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylynz/pseuds/starrylynz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Junior year starts like any other for Gerard but when he sees a familiar yet new face in the hallway things get confusing. It turns out that the new boy, Frank, was the same one that Gerard drunkenly made out with that summer. But shit, Frank doesn't remember it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What’s Your Weakness? Basement Gigs

The warm summer breeze passes over Belleview leaving the air feeling heavy. The town always has a way of feeling heavy. The spread out gas stations and closed blinds of the neighbors had a way of closing the town in. It’s not a small town, in fact it’s an average size, much like the rest of the town, average. It isn’t until you walk to the lower east side, does it get anymore fun. There, where the windows are shattered and the fences are being eaten by groves.

The summer heat is only intensified inside the basement of the record shop. The only shop in the lower east side that isn’t bared over. The purple and blue lights flash fast along with the guitar solos. The bass is rattling the walls and makes your heart beat faster. The crowd of about fifty jump to the rhythm. The tall black heels of the women on stage and long fishnets make the place feel like a time machine to the 1980’s. It feels like punk is born in the basement of the record shop every Friday. As if these people with a knack for the beat could create something so new that the world wouldn’t be ready for it. But rather here it smells like cigarettes and pot, people are dancing, making out, or passed out.

Gerard hopes to do all three tonight. He’s standing in the back while the women in tall black heels kick and swing their guitars. It’s too late for him to care who's here or what goes down. He needed to get out of his head for a while and this has always been the place to go. Sweat shines on his forehead while he drinks a strange black liquid from a cup that isn’t even his. He leans against the wall smiling from the warmth the drink gives him.

“You planing on getting some action tonight?” A voice asks.

Gerard can barely hear the boy speak but when his eyes land on him, he doesn’t wanna hear the boy speak, he wants to hear him moan. The boy seems to have a permanent smirk on his small face. “Who’s asking?” Gerard shouts over the music.

The boy saunters closer, his chained covered boots surely clicking. The boy leans in close. “Someone else looking for it.”

Gerard swallows hard. He glances down at the boy’s kissable lips and then into his big eyes. “What are you twelve?” He smiles.

The boy rests an arm on the wall right next to Gerard’s head. “Close… 18,” he winks. Gerard looks into the crowd for his friends but they’re too far. Suddenly, the crowd starts to yell louder than before. The boy glances back to see the two women on stage kissing. He looks back to Gerard. “See, gays welcome.”

Gerard subconsously licks his lips. He wants it, who wouldn’t want it from a punk boy with half his head shaved. The boy leans closer, only a few inches from his lips. Gerard can’t stop himself. He grabs tightly onto the boy’s leather jacket and presses his lips hard into his. The boy’s lips are hot and sweaty like he was just screaming on stage, it turns Gerard on even more. The boy presses his chest into him. The pressure from the boy’s chest allows the cold plaster to crawl into Gerard’s back. The boy runs his hands deep though Gerard’s greasy hair. The rings on the boy’s fingers tug on his hair but it feels good. Gerard digs his hands into the boy’s back. The blend of passion, heat, and pure lust fill Gerard. A tingling feeling crawls down his throat and into his pants. He ignores it and focus’ on the tongue in his mouth. Their lips glide together so smoothly that the loud crowd disappears for a second, maybe even a little longer.

The boy pulls away from Gerard with a chunk of black hair in his hand. He pulls Gerard’s head back, letting his rest against the wall. He looks into Gerard’s eyes, still panting. “You’re fucking hot,” escapes from Gerard’s weak mouth.

“Almost as hot as the bulge in your pants.”

Gerard’s feeling too tipsy to think straight and the loud music doesn’t help. He shakes the boy’s grip off before leaning back in. “Wanna head somewhere quieter?”

The boy presses against him hard. “Always.”

Gerard glances into the crowd of sweaty punks, his brother is with Ray, it’ll be fine. He slinks away with the boy up the stairs and out into the heat. The night air feels better than the sticky basement. It’s dangerous to walk around during the day, much less at night. The muted purples and blues of the gig disappear to reveal a much different looking boy. He looks softer, like he’s borrowing his older brother’s leather jacket.

“Where to?” the boy asks. His voice is deeper that Gerard thought. He has the winiest screams.

“My car’s out back,” Gerard replies. He digs his hands deep in his pockets and blinks a few times to get the haziness out of his field of vision. The boy leans against him, nearly pushing Gerard into the road. “You okay?”

“Little dizzy,” the boy replies.

Gerard shoves his only key into the car door as the bolts clack, he looks to the boy. “What’s your name anyway?”

The boy leans back on to the at least the 14 year old car. “Iero,” he replies with a smirk.

Gerard raises an eyebrow. “What the fuck kind of name is that?”

“A last one,” he licks his lips.

The car door swings open slowly, Gerard starts to cough when the smell of cigarettes hits him. He winks at Iero and slides in. The boy glances back at the record shop down the street and then joins Gerard in the car. Iero tosses his leather jacket into the front seat. Gerard swears that the boy shrunk.

He can’t help his tipsy self, he reaches out and starts to rub Iero’s arm. “Where’s your shoulder?”

The boy squints. “What?”

“Where is it?”

“Can you just shut up and can we fuck already?” Iero replies bluntly.

“Right,” Gerard winks, “sex time.”

Iero rolls his eyes. He pushes Gerard up against the window with a thud. “Oh fuck, you okay?”

“Yes? Fuck?” Gerard didn’t hear what the boy said and just went with it.

Iero shakes his head to focus again. In possibly the most ungraceful movements possible, he ends up straddled on top of Gerard. He leans into him, pressing rough kisses. Iero breathes like there isn’t enough air in the town. Gerard grips onto the boy’s hips tightly. He loves it when Iero grinds up against him. The tingling feeling makes its way back down.

Iero runs one of his hands through Gerard’s choppy hair again. He moves his other hand to Gerard’s chest. He starts feeling around on his band shirt, it’s making Gerard uncomfortable. He pulls away. “What are you doing?” He pants.

“What are you doing?” Iero replies.

Gerard narrows his eyes.

“Where are your boobs?” He asks genuinely concerned.

“I don’t have any?”

“Wait what?”

Gerard sits up more. “You saw my semi boner? Did you not?”

Iero look at him closely and then glances down to Gerard’s lack of boobs. “Oh fuck. You’re right!” He laughs loudly.

Gerard begins to realize that this boy might be too drunk. He wiggles Iero off him. “Well,” he starts, “ya know, it's pretty late. I think you should go home.” Gerard can feel his hands starting to shake, he doesn’t know why.

The boy smirks. “Okay, baby.” He ruffles Gerard’s hair one more time. “But you keep that boner for me.” He winks.

Gerard grins and watches Iero stumble out of the car. He joins him on the walk to the main road for a cab. “So what’s your really real name?”

Iero leans against him for stability as they walk. “My mom calls me Frankie.”

Gerard blinks confused. “Wait you have two names?”

The boy rubs the back of his shaven head. “Depends on who you ask. Your mom calls me really sexy.”

Gerard nudges him. “Even drunk, we’re hilarious!”

He breaks into a giggle fit. It warms Gerard’s heart but maybe that’s the booze. As Frankie steps into the cab, he salutes him off. “Get home safe,” he adds.

“Okay, baby,” Frankie slurs. As the cab pulls away, Gerard watches it. He’ll never see this boy again but damn it was a good story. Now to go find Mikey and his best friend.


	2. Guitar Two

Frank sits with his feet tucked under the plastic chair. The humming of the air conditioner, the shuffling of papers, Cindy the office lady chewing her gum, the ringing of the phone, every thing makes Frank wish the school year was already over. Only one hundred seventy nine days left after today. He plays with his hands in hopes that if he doesn’t look at the parents entering and leaving, they won’t look at him. A girl with dark black hair stomps in and starts yelling at Cindy the office lady.

“Mr. Brown said my crop top was ‘unprofessional’ in mock trial! HE GAVE ME A DETENTION! I DEMAND THIS BE REVOKED!” The dark haired girl throws her arms around.

He glances up from his ring fidgeting. He realizes how hot the girl is. Damn, if he wasn’t in the office right now he’d hit that. Frank looks her up and down just to make sure.

Cindy the office lady calms the girl down and dials a number on the phone while instructing her to wait over there. The girl sighs loudly and spins around on her heels. She meets eye to eye with Frank. Her face instantly lifts. The girls licks her lips and saunters into the chair next to Frank.

He paints a smirk on his face and lets her sit all too close to him. The girl squints at him, trying to figure of where she’s seen him, if that. The girl falls back in the chair but let’s her feet kick up against Frank’s. “So who are you?” She says in the sluttiest voice. Frank says he can tell who’s a slut based on their voice, he is a stupid teenage boy.

Frank rubs the side of his shaven head, it’s his nervous tick, even after all these years a pretty girl gets him. “Frank,” he replies. “Who are you?”

The girls puts one of her fingers on the edge of her lip. “Depends on who you ask. The books here call me a class disturbance,” she lets out a wicked giggle, “you can call me Lindsey.”

“If it’s any consolation I think your top is nice,” he doesn’t look at her when he says that.

“Thanks but I don’t take flattery from strangers,” she looks at the wall clock before letting out a loud sigh.

“Sorry,” he shrugs.

“I just mean, I don’t wanna be strangers,” she replies. 

Loud whining from the hall in the office make both of them turn their heads. A tall intimidating boy trudges out of followed by a very small woman. He looks to Lindsey and rolls his eyes. “What’s Queen Bitch doing here?” He asks her.

She smiles fakely at him. “Very cute.”

“Watch your mouth, Mr. Saporta, or you’ll be back in here,” the small woman says.

Saporta moves his backpack up on his shoulder. “Sorry, Ms. Douglas, she’s just so bitchy I can’t control it.”

Ms. Douglas rolls her eyes. “I’ll see you at the end of the day, Gabe.”

He groans and shoves the office door open. The woman sighs once he leaves and turns to Lindsey. “I’ll deal with you in a moment, Ms. Ballato,” she instructs. Ms. Douglas puts her hand out for Frank to shake. “Welcome to Belleview County High School,” she says in a robotic voice. Frank has never shaken someone’s hand before, he looks at her as if she just offered live squid. The, from what he assumes, principal moves her hand closer to prompt. Frank glances at Lindsey and then to the hand. He puts out his left hand and in an awkward turn of events, nearly breaks her hand.  
She smiles painfully and rubs her wrist. “Wow, strong grip there,” she begins to walk back to her office.

“Sorry,” it’s becoming Frank’s automatic response.

The principal holds her finger up in the air. “Now, here at BCHS, you’re not allowed to have visible tattoos so that scribble on your wrist will have to be hidden.”

It’s the only tattoo Frank has and he loves it almost as much as his rat dog. Hidding it will be a challenge. “Sorry.”

She sits down at her desk and starts to shuffle through papers. Frank shuts the door quietly before setting his bag on the chair. “Please sit, Mr. I- or Erearo?”

Frank sits in the other chair. “Its I-EAR-O,” he corrects.

The principal sets her glasses on the top of her blonde perm. She looks hard at the paper in front of her. It’s making Frank nervous, he can barely keep his hand out of his hair. She looks back up to him. “Now,” she begins in a near whisper, “I see that you were expelled from South County High School. I don’t want this to stop you from having a good last two years of high school here.”

Frank fiddles with his lip ring. “Yeah, don’t worry, dude.”

Ms. Douglas turns up her nose at being called ‘dude’. She shakes her head and takes a deep breath. “Now your schedule was emailed to you, correct?” He nods. “Your BCHS buddy is going to be the student with the most classes with you. They will help you around the school,” She begins to type on her ancient computer. Frank is pretty sure Nonna is younger than that. Ms. Douglas sets her thick glasses on her head once again. “It says here that two students match up with your schedule pretty closely.” She leans in close to the flickering screen. “Jamia Nestor and Raymond Toro.”

“Can I pick the hot girl?”

The principal glares at him. “I was going to let you buddy with Ms. Nestor but congratulations, Raymond is in your first class 105. He will show you around.”  
\---

Frank walks into 105 cautiously. Last year at his old school, the first day there was a bomb threat. He has no idea what to expect. He breathes a sigh of relief when he walks into a normal classroom. People are chattering away, eating, and a few are sleeping. He looks around a bit lost but not for long, a sharp faced boy about Frank’s height bumps into him.

“Wrong side of the hallway, man,” a quiet voice from behind Frank says. He walks farther into the classroom to see the owner of the voice ruffle the other boys hair. “Get to your homeroom, Mikey.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Mikey says before walking out.

“Fucking Freshman,” the hoodie clad person says.

“Yeah, freshman, hate ‘em,” Frank goes along with it.

“Sorry about that. My brother doesn’t know where he’s doing. I’m Gerard by the way,” he adds. He pats Frank’s shoulder and starts to walk to the back of the class. “You’re pretty quiet? Don’t tell me you’re a freshman?”

Frank follows Gerard. “No, god no, I’m just kinda lost. I’m a transfer.”

“I figured. You’re too cute to be a freshman,” he lets out a chuckle without even turning around.

Frank can feel his heart warm up. This person’s voice is familiar but he can’t pinpoint it. Gerard sits on top of the corner desk in the back of the class. His feet are too short to touch the ground so they just swing. Frank finds it cute. “So,” he sits across from Gerard. “Do you know where I can find Raymond Toro?”

Gerard has to visibly hold back his laugh. He coughs to cover it up. “Ray is probably at math club or something, he’ll be here soon.”

“Oh sorry,” he holds out his hand like the principal did. “I’m Frank.”

Gerard looks at him confused but shakes his hand anyway. “For a punk, I’m surprised you shake hands.”

Frank pulls his hood off. “Just let it happen.”

As soon as Gerard can see this boy’s entire face, he freezes. His eyes widen and mouth clamps shut. Frank looks nervous. Did he do something weird? Does he smell weird? Fuck, there’s something on his face isn’t there? “What’s wrong?” He asked confused.

“Um- you’re- um you don’t- you don’t remember?” Gerard stammers.

Frank narrows his eyes. “Remember what?”

Just then another boy appears. He’s panting hard and starts talking a million miles an hour. But Gerard isn’t listening, he can’t take his eyes off Frank. “You wouldn’t believe it, dude! Ms. D gave me a stupid new kid to show around without asking me. I have a life and would rather not babysit. I already do that with your brother. Did you know he asked me where the bathrooms were four times today? It’s only 8:15! Who goes to the bathroom four times in a half an hour? I swear, Gerard, you’re gonna have to make sure he doesn’t get killed by the seniors. Saporta and Weekes are already looking for another Way to harass.”

Gerard puts his hand over the boy’s mouth. “Ray, he’s the guy.” His eyes still locked on Frank.

Frank grins painfully. “Um what guy?”

Ray and Gerard look right at each other. “Fuck,” they say in unision.

Frank can feel his heart starting to race. He’s never seen this person before but he must be pretty important if in one word his friend remembers him. Frank plays with his rings and looks around for help.

“Do you remember fucking at all?” Ray asks point blank at Frank.

Frank’s eyes widen. He wishes he had just punched him or something but no, he had to fuck him. Gerard smacks Ray. “You can’t just ask someone that!” He talks about Frank like he’s in a different room.

“Too late.”

The noise in the room quiets down and Frank can’t tell if it’s from his mindstatic or not. There’s a weird feeling in his stomach that tells him to walk out of the class. To walk as far as he can and never see this godforsaken town again. He holds his breath as the two friends bicker.

“He doesn’t even remember you. You have no game.”

“Shut up, Toro.”

Frank swallows hard. He watches their facial expressions. Every movement, every syllable it means something. Nothing is for face value. Frank figured that out a long time ago. He keeps looking around for something familiar. Anything that reminded him of home would help. He is brought back to Earth when someone says his name.

“Frankie! Frankie!” Gerard calls.

He shakes his head out of his trace. “What?”

Gerard turns to his friend. “See he responds.”

Frank can’t be in the classroom anymore. At this rate he’s going to snap the ring on his finger in half. He shoves his bag on the floor and walks right out. Pass the people eating, sleeping, and chatting. Frank pulls his hood up over his head and trudges away. The feeling in his stomach is getting worse, it’s hard to breathe now. He doesn’t look where he’s going because the broken tile floor is far more interesting. His fidgety hands start to shake so he shoves them in his pockets so no one in the hall can see them. His black boots click down the hall but before he knows it the clicking is replaced with angry comments. Frank looks up to see that he ran right into another student. Not just any student but the student from the office, Gabe.

“Watch it,” the student growls.

Frank stumbled back. “Sorry.”

Gabe rolls his eyes and shoves past him. “Fucking idiot,” he mutters.

All the emotions that Frank feels are building up. The fucker from his last school reminded him all too much of Gabe. Stand up for yourself, you idiot! Do something! Be feared on your first day! I dare you! He clenches his fist by accident, he swore. He never meant to clock him, it just happened. Before Frank knows what happened, he’s standing there panting with blood on his knuckles and bruises on his face. He looks around at the crowd of students that had gathered. He looks for a familiar face. He can see Gerard and Ray in the crowd. They look scared. Good, you don’t need them! Frank runs his hand through his hair and looks around, anywhere but at Gabe on the floor and Gerard in the corner. 

Soon he’s looking at the wall in the nurse’s office. Frank doesn’t feel anything. No pain, or regret. He feels invincible. No way, he’s telling his therapist that. Its just the chemicals from the fight. That’s it. The nurse starts asking him a bunch of questions but Frank can’t look at her once. His eyes are locked on the ugly yellow paint. Her voice is replaced with mind static and the feeling in his stomach is all that grounds him.

“Frank, honey, please listen to me,” she finally gets through to him.

He slowly turns his head to face her. His eyes look empty but the pain in his hand is starting to spike now.

“You broke a few bones in your hand. Now, I don’t know how that’s possible. You didn’t hit Gabe very hard.

I hit him plenty hard.

“But you managed to do it. I’m sending you to the ER before you injure your hand more.”

Frank shrugs. “I don’t have a car.”

The nurse sighs. She thinks for a moment before responding. “Keep it bandaged up. Go after class.”

Frank knows he isn’t going to go but nods in understanding.  
\---

Frank trudges to the classroom as it ends. When he walks in, everyone falls silent. He pushes his hair out of his face and walks to the back of the class. Dozens of eyes are staring at him. He’s already the talk of the town and he’s been there fifteen minutes. Students file out as Frank glares hard. Gerard looks at Frank sadly when he picks up his bag. The two don’t say anything and frankly, he doesn’t want Gerard to say anything.

But he waits for Frank to grab his bag, even after everyone has left the class. He almost runs into Gerard when he turns around. “Oh sorry,” Frank can feel his hot breath on his face. He glances down at Gerard’s lips but then quickly darts his eyes back. He swallows hard before stepping back. “I didn’t think you stayed.”

“It’s your first day. I wasn’t about to leave you,” he smiles just a bit, enough for Frank to feel a little better.

The pair walk into the hall near students nearly running to their next class. Gerard rolls his eyes. Frank holds his bandaged hand close to his chest. Partially so he doesn’t hurt it but mostly so people don’t fuck with him. God, you’re pathetic.

Frank follows the boy closely until he reaches the music room. Gerard stops abruptly causing his to walk right into him. Frank can feel his broken fingers bend some way they aren’t supposed to. He tries to ignore it. “This is it,” Gerard says a bit pompously. “I’ll see ya.” He walks away without even turning around. Frank ignores the feeling in his chest.

The music room smells like dust and metal. Frank quickly notices that this class only has about ten people in it and they’re all freshman. He groans internally before sitting down in the corner. He stretches his legs out and inspects his hand. It never even occurred to Frank until now, punching too much shit can break your fucking hand, you idiot. That locker that he couldn’t open was worth it, he’s convinced.

Frank thought that by putting his bag on the chair next to him, no one would sit down. But oh how fate likes to be a bitch. His backpack is pushed to the floor and a small person sits next to him. Frank looks up slowly with a glare that could kill a man. This person isn’t just any freshman, it’s the kid that ran into him from before. What was his name? Matt?

“Sorry this seat taken?” The freshman ‘Matt’ asks.

Frank rolls his eyes. “Yeah, for you I guess.”

The boy’s face lights up. “Really?”

Frank doesn’t respond and instead just sinks into his chair. It’s already too much that he wasn’t allowed to take Guitar 2 but he is now stuck in Guitar 1 with a bunch of freshmen. ‘Matt’s’ face drops as soon as Frank looks away. He can see out of the corner of his eye. The kid is picking at his fingers and just looking plain sad. Don’t do it, Frank, let him feel alone. “So you one of the Willis’?” He asks the freshman.

‘Matt’’s eyes look big and full of anxiety. Frank starts to feel bad for being a dick. “Um close. I’m one of the Way’s.”

He nods. “You ready for this bullshit class to start or what?”

‘Matt’ looks a bit taken aback at swearing when the teacher is in the room. He has a lot to learn about high school. “Um yeah,” he has to work himself up to it, “fuck this. My hands are too small. I wanted to play bass.”

Frank tries not to retort with some wiseass comment on how weak he thinks bass is. You can’t even hear it in songs? What’s the point? It makes it sound fuller. ‘Fuller’ my ass. Instead, he smiles painfully.

Halfway through the class, Frank wants to jump off a bridge.

“Now,” the teacher begins. Between you and me, this music teacher looked like a hippy who crawled out of a sewer and the school board hired him because he didn’t have a drinking problem. That’s what Frank gathered from Gerard on the walk over. “This is a fret!” The teacher enthusiastically points to the fret.

Frank lets out a long groan.

The teacher tries to strum a chord but the guitar is so out of tune it sounds like a dying animal. “That is an A chord! I can’t remember if it’s A sharp or not but I don’t think that matters too much.”

That fucking dick, Gabe that he punched is also in this class. He’s been ignoring him though. He can’t even look at Gabe without feeling pathetic. Somewhere deep down Frank knows he only punched Gabe so that he could be known on the first day. It fucking worked, you idiot. He can feel this heat building up inside of him but he doesn’t know why. It’s this feeling like he wants to throw the guitar on the floor right now. He takes a deep breath. When he closes his eyes, he doesn’t see New York or his mom. He sees a field in the middle of nowhere. Everything is quiet there, Frank likes it. When he opens his eyes back up, that heat in the pit of his stomach is gone. It’s replaced with pain in his hand. Strumming with gauzed up knuckles is never a good idea.  
\---

When lunch rolls around Frank isn’t sure what to do. He’s always had a friend to sit by in lunch, whether it was someone from photography class or the weird kid who brings pictures of his dog to school, Frank always had someone. He enters the bustling cafeteria and feels all out of place. The chairs are grey, the walls, are grey, even the trays are grey. It reminds him of visiting his dad. He scans the room for Gerard or Ray. Isn’t Ray supposed to be in all his classes? Frank gives up and just sits down.

Frank peels his orange with one hand and it’s a struggle. Suddenly, a soft hand is placed over his. Frank moves his eyes up the arm and meets face to face with one of the prettiest smiles. He can’t help but smile back. “Need help?” the girl asks in a sweet voice.

“Please.”

She pulls a chair out across from him before taking the orange. Her warm face makes Frank feel a little better. “I’m Jamia by the way.”

“I’m-”

“I know who you are,” she cuts him off.

Oh okay, that’s reassuring. He bites at the corner of his lip. “I normally don’t punch people,” Frank tries to chuckle but it comes off awkward.

Jamia rips the orange in half while staring him dead in the eye. “No, I like it.”

Frank looks around concerned.

“I want you to join my punk band.”

He can feel his heart stop. This is the girl from the record shop gigs he goes to. Sure he was good at guitar but he’s never been in a band. Much less a hot lesbian band. “Aren’t you all gay girls or some shit?”

“Yeah,” Jamia leans in, “and it’s fucking hot.”

Frank feels his chest tightening up. “How did you know I play?”

“I have a sixth sense,” she winks. “I’m kidding. I can spot a guitarist's hands from a mile away.”  
\---  
The rest of the day goes by as usual. Whenever Ray tries to question Frank on how he ended up at Belleview High, he just mutters a response. He swings by the music room at the end of the day to tune his guitar, well kind of his, it’s the one the school gave him. As he strums away, the bad memories from today already begin to fade. He has to stop when his hand hurts too much. At the end of the day Frank’s hand has started to throb. He tries his best to ignore it but the idea that he’s going to have to deal with this for who knows how many days bugs him. Frank is on his knees, trying to shove his books into his bag. Being one handed means that the halls are nearly empty by the time he finishes. Once Frank walks outside the school it looks like a dystopia. There’s only two cars and a few dead looking students lying around on the ground. Frank pulls his bag tighter to his one shoulder and starts his trudge to the bus stop. Before he can even get out of the parking lot, someone is yelling his name.

Frank spins on his heels to see a panting Gerard running towards him. The alarm in his head goes off and he wants to run as fast as he can but forces himself to stay.

“Hey man, you left your binder inside,” he tries to say between breaths.

Frank looks at him confused. “Are you talking about the one you’re holding?” He gestures to the blue folder in Gerard’s hand.

“Yeah, your name is on it,” he holds it up while still breathing hard.

“Uh this says ‘Franklin Hero’,” Frank squints to see the scribbles.

Gerard shoves the binder towards him. “Exactly.”

“I’m Frank I-” he stops himself. “Thanks for grabbing this for me,” he smiles. It’s better to just accept the folder than to make Gerard feel like an idiot. As he shoves it in his bag, Gerard starts to babble about something.

“So it would be pretty cool if you helped Mikey with his bass playing. I saw you- er um I heard from him, not like I waited outside the music room to listen to you play or anything, so um maybe sometime you could ah come over?” Gerard can’t even look at him and he’s a shade of pink.

Frank swings his bag over his shoulder. “I don’t really play bass,” he shrugs.

“Oh right I’m dumb sometimes,” he replies all flustered.

“I can still help maybe.”

“Now?”

“I gotta get my hand fixed,” by ‘fixed’ Frank means he’s going to have Nonna look at it and hopefully she has some remedy that doesn’t involve going to the hospital. “The bus leaves at 4 so I gotta head out.”

Gerard starts to crunch his face up. “Wait! I can take you to the hospital. I have a car.”  
\---  
As soon as they enter the waiting room, they both regret it. People are coughing and sneezing left and right. Someone has a bloody rag covering their hand. It’s a mess. Gerard shifts his eyes left to right before walking up to the main desk. The woman at the front desk types fast on her computer but pays him little attention. “If this is about the chemical leak please fill out the form on the right,” she tells them in a monotone voice without looking up.

Gerard looks to Frank for help but he just shrugs. “Um no thanks, ma’am. What’s the wait time?”

“Five hours thanks to Dickey’s chemical dump in the Second River,” the woman replies still without even looking at them.

The pair sigh.

The woman finally looks up to him. She looks tired like it’s the third shift in a row. Frank only knows that because of his mom but he tries to push her from his mind.“So what’s your insurace?”

Frank looks confused. He hoped she wouldn’t have asked. He hasn’t been to the doctor in years. But Gerard can’t know that. “I kinda don’t have any at the moment.”

She rolls her eyes.

“I just moved here from New York and the papers haven’t been transfered probably.” He tries to explain.

The two end up walking back to the car after waiting what felt like an eternity. Frank has to power walk to keep up with him.

“What are we supposed to do?” he asks while holding his purple hand in the hoodie pocket.

“Ray’s mom is a nurse. She can fix it for free.”

It’s dark by the time Gerard and Frank start to drive to Ray’s house. The cool hum of the air conditioner trying to puff out a breeze, mixed with the traffic lights illuminating the road, make it all feel surreal. Gerard clicks on the radio and there’s only three stations, the news in French, country, and slow tunes from the 70’s. Frank lets out a loud sigh but let’s the slow music move through the air. He pretends not to like it but all those nights when his mom would hum in the kitchen flood his mind.

“So what’s your deal?” Gerard breaks the melody.

Frank looks over to him, confused. “Sorry, my what?”

He shrugs. “Ya know,” he trails off.

“I really don’t?” Frank is starting to get annoyed.

“You don’t remember, do you?” he asks. A bit of shock in his voice.

Frank lets out a deep breath before rubbing the side of his face with his palm. “If you know Jack, tell ‘em that I was drunk and I just didn’t-”

“Woah, woah, woah?” Gerard cuts him off. “I’m talking about the first night we met. You tried to fuck me but you couldn’t find boobs so you left?”

He bites his lower lip and pushes his eyebrows up. He still has only a vague idea about this situation but it sure as hell sounds like him. He has an idea, If I just bullshit this and pretend I remember, maybe he’ll trust me. “Um yeah!” Frank blurts out.

Gerard looks confused.

“Sometimes, I’m such a dick! Sorry about that!” His voice is all high and weird. Fuck, Gerard knows you’re lying, you piece of shit.

It’s quiet for the rest of the trip. Frank can’t read Gerard’s face at all and feels like a totally dick, well he always feels like that, he feels more like one now. He leans his head against the window of the car and plays with the inch of hair on his shaven side. You fucked up.

Upon entering the Toro’s house, everything is a mess. The house itself is pretty clean but the amount of chatter and noise makes it sound like a whole marching band lives there. Frank follows behind Gerard awkwardly, his house is always silent and this is a dramatic change. The two walk into the kitchen to find Ray attempting to… what’s is called?

“Hey, Toro!” Gerard says in a loud voice over the Pop music.

Ray puts the hair tie in his mouth and clicks off the radio. “Sup, dude,” he replies with huge smile.

“Ya know, I’m a Toro too!” A small voice says.  
Frank looks down to meet eyes with the little girl that is sitting on a stool in front of Ray. His hands are twisting her hair into like woven designs? What’s that called?

“Hi, Kamila” Gerard punches her shoulder playfully.

“I might be six but I know a scary person when I see one,” she crosses her arms over her pink shirt while staring Frank dead in the eye.

Frank has never been stared down by a basically toddler but it’s intense. “I’m your brother’s friend,” he tries to explain. The words seemed hard to get out though, Frank hasn’t had a friend in a long time.

“Give me one second and then I can hang with you guys,” Ray continues to knot his sister’s thick hair.

“When did you learn how to braid?” Gerard asks while wandering passed the three and to the fridge.

That’s what it is, braiding.

“I had to learn because these two nuggets want their hair done every single morning,” Ray rolls his eyes before snapping the elastic around the second braid.

“Two?” Frank asks afraid. Shit, did he hit them with the door or something.

“Adriana is around here somewhere,” Ray assures.

Gerard walks back over to the two with a bag of chips. “We’re looking for your mom,” he tries to say between munching noises.

“Why?” Ray asks with squinting eyes. His sister hops off the stool and disappears into the hall.

Frank holds up his bandaged hand but looks to the floor.


	3. Poetry For The Fa-

Soon the first week is over and then the month, Frank has started to pick up on how life works in Jersey but it’s still confusing. His grandma seems to be sleeping more and calls from his dad are more frequent. Frank never answers his calls but a small part of him likes being acknowledged for existing.

On this particular Friday, he starts his day by waking up five minutes before class starts, bolting out the door, getting half way down the block, running back inside to wish Nonna good morning, then back off to class. He fumbles into first period, skin under his eyes a shade of purple and weak shoulders. Frank drops his things on the floor before dropping himself in his chair. He crosses his arms over the top of the desk and lets his forehead sink into the black hoodie. The chatter from all around him seems to die down thanks to Frank’s mind static. The memories and thoughts from last night start to appear but this time they’re clouded in liquor and smoke. A loud “Frankie boy!” rings in his ears causing him to look up slowly.

Gerard and Ray are walking towards him with grins. “Hey,” Frank replies weakly. He smiles sleepily at the pair.

Gerard sits on the desk next to Frank with his feet dangling, they always do that. Ray pokes Frank’s shoulder. “Rough night?”

He rubs the side of his face. “Nah, I’m good,” Frank lies through his teeth. It’s better to do that than to tell them he was up ‘till 4:00am trying to get his mother to stop crying on the phone.

“Probably from all that pussy, oh wait!” a boy says from behind Ray.

Gerard and Frank both make the same grossed out face but Ray just chuckles. “Fuck off, Brendon,” Ray steps to the side.

The boy, weirdly thin, bad haircut, strangely kissable lips? This really the kid that made the sex joke? Wait, wait, wait, Frank isn’t into dudes… right? Well, I mean, sometimes they’re really hot but wait He’s only bi when he’s drunk, that’s what he always told himself.

“Yeah, I’m sure you know all about sex, Mr. I’ve never drunk caffeine,” Gerard chuckles his high pitch squeak.

Brendon glares. “That’s a religious thing, you dick.”

“Yeah and Lindsey Ballato wears those fishnets because of her lesbian religion,” Frank laughs at his own joke but the rest of the gang goes quiet.

Brendon’s eyes seem to increase three times. He hops so close to Frank that he can feel Frank's shaking breath. Frank swallows hard and looks to Gerard for help. “What did you say about Lindsey?" Brendon’s voice sounds serious and cold.

“She’s um uh she’s gay?” Frank prays that the boy doesn’t move his kissable lips any closer.

“Who told you?”

“Jamia Ne- Ne-, I don’t remember her last name but she’s in a band with Lindsey and she said they’re all dirty lesbians.”

Brendon backs up. He exchanges looks with Ray and then Gerard. “How did I not know this? Two years in the same class and I never knew?” A sense of disbelief sets in over him. All he gets is a shrug of a reply. “And who are you exactly?”

The knot in his throat makes it hard to swallow the excess spit in his mouth. Frank is afraid that if he opens his mouth he’ll drool. He just stares into the other boy’s eyes until it get so awkward, someone else has to say something. These five seconds feel like an eternity. Frank glances at the clock on the wall. God, why did the hands have to move so fucking slow.

“Leave Frankie alone,” Gerard’s voice feels so soft on Frank’s nervous ears. The words melt into his throat, letting the knot disappear. No one has ever called him ‘Frankie’ but his mom, he likes the nickname.

Brendon raises an eyebrow. He seems to instantly recognize the name.“Come to Poetry For The Soul.”

“Poetry for the Fa-” Frank stops when he gets a look from Gerard.

Brendon pays Gerard no attention, he’d rather study this strange new punk in front of him. “Room 214, after school, your lover Gerard will be there.” And just like that Brendon, if that even is his real name, leaves.

The loud ring of the bell sounds and the students shuffle to their desks. Ray sits in front of Gerard’s desk this time, usually he likes to sit in the front next to the cute girl, Christa, Crystal? Whatever. The rest of the class all Frank can think about is this mysterious club that a strange boy invited him too. Maybe he can score some dick, he starts to think some pretty nasty things. 

He imagines himself going into the room to find a hot older boy smirking at him. The warm air would set the tone. Then the boy would grab onto him tightly, his soft lips and sweet skin would throw him against with a thud. The pictures on the wall would shake with the force of the boy thrusting against him. Frank would be so out of breath, he would grip onto the bricks of the wall due to the lack of sheets. He would wish he could see how hot the boy looks right now, all hot and sweaty. All gross and sticky because of Frank. When the boy lets out a pornagraphic moan, he would flip Frank so his bare back is on the cold wall. The boy would finally reach down and put Frank out of his misery, in this case his misery is hard and throbbing. The quick rough friction from the boy’s tough hands would send Frank over the edge. Then when he finally moved the boy’s thick black hair out of his sweet face, he would see Gerard… WAIT, GERARD.

Frank snaps out of the shock he gave himself. He stares at his hands in confusion. Did he just really think about Gerard, his friend, fucking him after class? He takes a deep breath before glancing to the side. There Gerard is, squinting at a piece of paper he’s scribbling on. He looks so cute with his little scrunched up nose and tongue just sticking out of the corner of his mouth. Whatever he’s working on must be pretty important, Frank wishes he could see it. Wait, stop, Gerard is a friend, not a boyfriend. You’re too pathetic to get one, you fucking faggot. 

Looking down at his own desk, Frank can see that he’s clutching his pen so tight his knuckles are fading to white. He closes his eyes and relaxes his hand, the pen falls to his desk.  
\---  
When lunch finally rolls around, Frank doesn’t feel like eating. He can see Ray, Gerard, and the rest of their friends off in the corner table. They’re laughing and eating together. Frank wishes he had the courage to walk over. What is upsetting is that Frank normally does, he’s headstrong and possessive but something, something about the whole Gerard situation is making him weak. He knows that Gerard knows something he doesn’t and he hates that. So instead, there he sits, eating grapes and staring into the distance.

A few minutes later he walks over to the trashcan and tosses the majority of his lunch away. Normally, he’d save it, but today he doesn’t care. Frank starts to walk back to his lonely spot at the lunch table but the sound of his name stops him.

“Iero,” a cold voice says.

Frank freezes in his tracks. No one ever pronounces his name right. Whoever is behind him must know who he is. Frank takes a deep breath before turning around, He gives a sigh of relief when he sees it’s only Gerard. “Hey man,” Frank says.

Gerard seems angry, shit what did Frank do? “Come with me,” his voice is sharp.

“Um uh okay?” Frank agrees.

He walks towards him and grabs Frank’s hand tightly. FUCK FUCK FUCK WHAT IS HAPPENING??? You’re supposed to be a loser! You can’t hang out with Gerard. Frank can feel dozens of eyes land on him as Gerard drags him through the cafeteria. The boy’s hands are so cold that Frank holds them tighter to warm them up. Fuck is that gay?

“Gerard, people are looking,” he whispers.

“Exactly,” he replies while marching forward. “I CAN’T WAIT TO TOTALLY FUCK TONIGHT, BABE!” Gerard says very loudly.

Frank wants to sink into the floor because he’s sure that he’s turning red.

When they get to a lunch table, Gerard holds Frank tightly against his side. Gerard clears his throat to get the boys attention. The boys seem to all look up simultaneously. They look tough, well tough as in they could beat Frank up. The four of them seemed to have the same dumb buzz cut, it matched their stupid nice jawlines. Woah calm the gay thoughts there, buddy.

“What do you want?” one of them asks.

“This is my hot punk boyfriend. Off limits,” Gerard grips Frank a bit stronger.

Boyfriend? Boyfriend? Friend that is a boy? Or I would die for you boyfriend? Oh no, oh no, oh no. Why is Gerard telling these people? They could literally murder us? Frank tightens his jaw to keep himself from throwing up.

The boys laugh or roll their eyes. “Great for you, you fucking faggot,” the same boy replies.

Gerard winks and the boy give him a slight nod. With that, He waltzes off to the table in the corner, where Ray is crackling at them. When they get to the table, Gerard lets go of Frank. The cold presence disappears, Frank wants it back. Gerard sits down but he just stands there, partially in shock, partially in confusion,

Gerard immediately stands back up and pulls a chair out for him. “Sorry, where are my manners? For you, my boyfriend,” he can barely get the sentence out before falling into a giggle fest. Frank can’t laugh though, he feels played? As lunch goes on, he starts to learn about the reason for the stunt.

“So one day right,” Ray starts, “Gee was hanging out in the locker room after interviewing some players for the school paper and-”

“School paper?” Frank asks in disbelief.

“Freshman year was a dark time,” Gerard replies.

“Anyway, so he sees Jason Williams and, ah what’s his name?” Ray asks.

“Sean Davis,” Gerard interjects.

“Oh right, so these two are totally fucking making out in the locker room. Gerard eavesdrops because he’s a Way,” Ray mutters the last part.

“Hey! What does that mean?” Gerard asks.

Ray avoids looking at him. “Mikey, 2012, the flashlight dildo incident.”

“THAT WAS MIKEY’S FAULT!”

“HE STILL KNOWS!”

“Get back to the story!” Frank interrupts.

“Okay pushy, so Gerard was being shoved into lockers and getting his homework ripped up so naturally, he gets an idea, blackmail. He takes a picture of the boys and promised not to hand it out if they protect him. The two guys are on the football team right, so they know what to do. Gerard keeps his gay mouth shut about them being gay and he isn’t thrown into garbage cans,” Ray finally finishes.

Frank runs his hand over his shaven head. “So why did you say we were dating?” He asks Gerard. “Cause we’re like totally not! Not dating for sure!”

“I don’t want them to bother you,” he answers casually.

And just like that, the little bit of hope that was deep inside Frank dies. He thought that maybe he could be good enough to be someone’s boyfriend, not just friend with benefits. He takes a deep breath but Gerard and Ray are already wrapped up in conversation to notice.  
\---

“Welcome to Poetry for the Soul, you guys!” A low yet excited voice says. Frank is lingering outside the door. Part of him wants to go in but the other part wants to drive in the middle of nowhere. He tends to do the latter a lot, maybe because he hates a part of himself and the driving reminds him? The cold air in the school starts to make him fidget. He looks into the room and then into the hallway, his heart’s beating fast, fuck it. Swallowing his pride and fear, Frank walks into the room.

There are only a few people there, all sitting on desks while some taller boy stands in front of them. Reminds Frank of a cult. He recognizes the girl from the office, Lindsey, the dirty lesbian Jamia, Brendon, and Gerard of course are there too. “Frankie!” a familiar soft voice calls.

The boy in the middle of the half circle turns around. He looks Frank up and down, almost as if judging if he is good enough. Good enough to what? Sit in a fucking circle? When the round eyes land on Frank, he narrows them. “So you’re the illusive Frankie from the fucking incident?”

Of course that is the first godforsaken thing that comes out of this boy’s mouth. Frank looks to Gerard, who had originally noticed him. “I don’t see what the big deal is?” He walks past the boy and hops on the desk next to Gerard.

“Not a big deal?” someone else says.

Frank looks over to see Brendon, the kid that invited him. “Nope,” he shrugs.

Brendon scoffs.

“What’s so important? We never actually fucked okay? We were too drunk. Even if we did, why does it matter? It’s not like he’s pregnant? Just chill,” Frank’s voice is sharp.

No one says anything for a moment. He looks back to Gerard, who is avoiding eye contact. Shit, you fucked up. Frank leans closer to him and drops his voice to a whisper, “you are a dude, right? You aren’t secretly a pregnant woman or something?”

The room erupts in laughter but Gerard leans in closer to whisper a reply. “Um, no, no to both of those things.”

 

Frank pretends a weight wasn’t just lifted off his shoulders. He doesn’t need sophomore year part 2. He thought he had an STD that year, turns out he was just really sweaty. “Okay, good,” he whispers.

“I’m kinda non-binary,” he elaborates while the room is cackling.

Frank has barely any idea what that means but he lies. “Oh okay.”

“He/They,” Gerard adds.

You have no idea what that even means, stop lying, you stupid whore mouthed slut! “Okay, cool.”

Once the room calms down, the boy in the front makes a statement. “Okay so let’s welcome, Frankie “shitty top” to Poetry for the Soul. I’m Ryan by the way.”

Shitty top? Frank glares at Gerard but cracks a smile. “Sorry, but,” they add.

“Frank is fine,” Frank adds.

“Okay, Frank “shitty top”, will read the opening poem,” Ryan steps to the side and gestures to the floor.

His chest tightens. Frank just made a fool of himself in front of hot guy, girls, and Gerard. He looks to the door and thinks about how fast he can run to the exit. He then looks to Gerard, their eyes are so full of hope and his smile is so awkward. Frank can read this damn poem, even if it kills him.

He hops off the desk and walks to the middle. The old book is faded and brown, its dogeared to the poem of the day. Frank flips to it and receives a face full of book dust. He holds the book tightly and can’t even look up from it to read. “Um, a poem by Christopher Brennan? Because She Asks Me Why I Love Her.”

“The one below” Ryan interjects.

He looks up to Gerard instead. “Okay.” Frank’s head falls to the text “I Held a Gem by Emily Dickinson. I held a jewel in my fingers/And went to sleep/The day was warm, and winds were prosy/I said, “Twill keep”/I woke – and chide my honest fingers,/The Gem was gone/And now, an Amethyst remembrance/Is all I own.”

Before Frank even understood the poem, Ryan has snatched the book away. He looks lovingly at Gerard before remembering he’s in a public place. The rest of the ‘club meeting’ is just them hanging and eating snacks. Apparently, this is really the gay club? They just pretend it’s a real club for yearbook. Frank doesn’t really understand but he’s new to this whole maybe bi thing.


	4. We Can’t Have Sex Here

Frank lays off the side of his bed so the ground is the ceiling. He lets out a deep sigh as the slow music drifts through the room. It’s the same shitty love song station that was playing in the car with Gerard. Frank likes hearing it because it reminds him of the long nights with his mother in the kitchen and now it also reminds him of Gerard’s strong hands on the steering wheel. The sharp call for him forces him to sit up.

“Piccolo!”

Frank hops off his bed and wanders out the door. There his grandmother is stirring something hot on the stove. Her warm smile and short exterior reminds Frank of a teddy bear. “Hi, Nonna,” he gives her a small wave.

“What are you still doing here, Piccolo?” She asks in a thick Italian accent.

Frank pulls up a stool from the counter. “Am I supposed to be somewhere?” He would raise an eyebrow but she would probably hit him with a spoon if he did.

Nonna tosses some salt into the pot on the stove. “Uh there was phone call for you,” she tells him. Even after all these years she still forgets little words in her sentences.

“Oh,” he says surprised. No one ever calls the house phone. “Do you know who called?” Frank asks while reaching for the landline right next to him.

She lets out a low chuckle. “Non lo sapevo. I don’t know everyone who calls.”

Frank picks up and phone and clicks through. “Nonna, can we please get caller ID?”

“When I die,” she smiles.  
After walking outside, Frank redials the number. He taps his foot impatiently as he looks off the paint chipped porch. The five rings feel like an eternity until a small voice finally picks up.

“Hello?” a quiet person says on the other line.

“Hi, this is Frank Iero, you called me.”

All Frank can hear is giggling from the other end.

“One second,” the small voice says. “YOUR BOYFRIEND'S ON THE PHONE, GERARD!” the voice calls into the house.

Frank doesn’t have time to process what’s happening. Was that little person just being annoying or was that serious?

“I’m so sorry about that, Frankie,” a warm voice says.

Frank instantly looks up from the ground, hoping that Gerard was right in front of him and not just on the phone. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I’m having this party, well its not really a party, it’s like uh a get together of uh mutual friends.”

Something inside Frank warms up. The sound of someone being flustered because of him makes his cheeks red. “Sure, when?”

There’s a long pause before Gerard responds. “I’m sorry what?”

“I said I’ll be there, just when?”

“Now!” Gerard replies quickly; he coughs to cover up his excitement. “Whenever is cool with me.”  
\---

Frank now stands on a different porch but he’s just as anxious. He tries to look through the heavily curtained windows but all he can see is pink and white tool. After taking a deep breath, Frank knocks on the door. A loud crash from inside scares him, he takes a step back. 

The door swings open and there Gerard is. He has a big goofy smile that makes Frank’s legs feel numb. “Frankie!” He says loudly.

“Hey man,” Frank says quietly because he’s still a little surprised to hear Gerard call him ‘Frankie’ still. 

Gerard opens the door more and gestures inside. “Everyone is in the basement, come on.”

Frank slides past him and into the dusty house. It’s a one level straight from the set of a 1970’s horror movie and smells like cigarettes. He stands awkwardly in the foyer while Gerard fiddles with the lock on the door. Frank digs his hands into his jean pockets and turns on his heels. When he does there Gerard is, pinned against the door.

Frank swallows hard and just stares at him with his mouth wide open. He swears Gerard’s eyes glance down to his lips. Gerard's chest presses against Frank’s so hard that Frank can feel their heartbeat, or maybe that’s his own. He looks down to his hands that must have instinctively moved to his hips, right?

“Sorry,” Frank breathes.

Gerard licks his lips while just staring at him with big eyes. “It’s okay.”

He looks down at the ground and steps back. Gerard walks in front of him and leads him to the basement. “Next time warn me, if you want to make out,” he chuckles as he makes his way down the stairs.

“I wasn’t- we weren’t- no it was an-,” Frank sputters a response.

Gerard stops half way down the stairs but doesn’t turn around. “Just warn me.”

After a chorus of ‘hellos’ and ‘heys’, Frank perches on the edge of Gerard’s bed in the corner of the small basement. The basement has one tiny window straight across from the bed, Frank bets that the sun shines right at him in the morning. No, stop thinking about him like that. The walls are plastered in posters of old bands and cartoons. There are clothes in the corners and the smell of dust is so strong Frank feels like he’s about to sneeze all the time.

Ray is strumming some nonsense chords on an old chipped guitar. Brendon and Ryan are trying to play a video game. They sit right next to each other (well more like on top of each other but it’s not Frank’s place to comment) in front of the box tv. Frank smiles at the two and then looks to the girls behind them. Two hot girls that didn’t belong in the shit hole basement, Lindsey and Jamia.

Jamia has her thumb in Lindsey’s belt loop. She’s swaying from side to side as the punk tunes play quietly in the background. Lindsey taps her foot to the beat, her black boots click on the carpet. 

“RIGHT, LEFT, RIGHT! NOT RIGHT, RIGHT, LEFT!” Brendon shouts at Ryan with his eyes still locked on the tv.

“I WENT RIGHT, LEFT, RIGHT, RIGHT!” Ryan replies.

Brendon groans. “That’s why you killed us!” He flops backwards and lands onto Lindsey’s boot’s toes.

She scowls down at him but Brendon smirks up. He can see right up Lindey’s skirt and everyone knows it. Soon, Jamia’s foot is in Brendon’s side. “Fuck off my gir- friend, just friend,” Jamia chuckles awkwardly.

Brendon rolls onto his stomach. “Sorry your skirt is so short,” he mumbles.

A loud clunk from upstairs makes everyone’s eyes look up at the ceiling. Ray stops strumming and stares at the door in the side of the basement. He swallows hard and looks like a chill just came over him. Frank leans in to Gerard who is sitting next to him. “What is going on?”

Gerard inhales. “Someone’s home.”

“So?” Frank isn’t use to other people at his house so how bad could it be?

Gerard pulls out his phone and starts to dial something quickly. “Are you home? What? Then who is?” He puts his phone down on his bed and exchanges looks with Ray. He then looks to Lindsey and nods to her.

“Who’s turn is it?” Ray asks.

Brendon tries to roll away but Ryan grabs onto his shirt back. “I think we all know.”

“Come on!” Brendon whinges.

Gerard shoots him a glare and Brendon is up the stairs soon enough.

The clanking from upstairs is quieted down soon. Frank raises an eyebrow. “Um what is going on?”

“Mikey’s home,” Jamia replies in a solemn tone.  
\---

Soon, Brendon returns with booze and… Mikey. Gerard tries to protest to his little brother hanging out with his friends because Brendon was supposed to convince him to leave. But eventually after a few drinks, no one is caring about anything.

Ray, Brendon, and Ryan are in the corner chuckling about Brendon burning in hell. Ryan lets Brendon lay in his lap and he’s rubbing the boy’s back. “Okay so who is a worse mormon? Brendon or Gerard?”

“Gerard isn’t mormon?” Ray replies while trying to figure out why the strings on his guitar are so tight? Honestly, no one is really sure what he’s doing.

Ryan tries to hold back his laugh. “That’s why it’s funny!”

Brendon’s warm breath melts into a chuckle. “It’s true! I am going to burn!”

Everyone bursts into laughter. Once it dies down, Ray takes a deep breath before leaning close into the pair. “Are you happy?”

“When I’m sucking dick,” Brendon smirks.

Ryan chuckles a little but it feels bitter sweet. “Why would you ask us this, boy” His deep voice sounds shaky.

Ray slouches into the cold plaster wall. “You only seem happy when you’re talking to Brendon,” he shrugs.

“Let me assurance you,” Ryan slurs, “I am.”

Brendon sits up and as soon as he does, his big eyes look into Ryan’s. “Wait what does that mean?”

Ryan picks at the fabric of his shirt tail. “Nothing,” he mutters.

“YES IT DOES,” Ray says loudly.

“So maybe my heart beats fast when I see you and I’m happy when I’m with you but whatever…. I’m happy when I’m with J. D. Salinger too,” Ryan replies.

Brendon moves closer. His soft hand is sliding up Ryan’s leg painfully slow. Ryan finally looks him in the eye. “I would fuck Holden Caulfield if that meant that I could fuck you too,” Brendon laces his hand in Ryan’s messy hair.

Ryan looks away, he wants it but he can’t just make out with his best friend and then wake up and pretend nothing happened. That’s not who he is. His eyes flicker down to his waist where Brendon’s other hand is sliding up still. “I don’t know,” he breathes.

“Why not?” He asks.

“BECAUSE I’M RIGHT HERE, YOU GAY FUCKS!” Ray throws his arms up and groans.

Brendon looks over to him and grins. “Go talk to Mikey or something.”

“Maybe I don’t want to?” he pouts.

“Talk to the little Way or watch us make out. It’s your choice.”

Ray groans again but does stand up and stagger over to Mikey, who is playing video games in the center of the room.

Ryan swallows his fear and looks into Brendon’s eyes. “We can’t, I’m sorry. I’m sorry but what if it changes things?”

“It won’t.”

“Tell that to every cheesy movie.”

“Can we just lay together? Is that okay?” Brendon asks with glassy eyes.

“Of course.”

Brendon nuzzles his head into his lap. The slow breath of him could put Ryan to sleep. So he plays with Brendon’s short hair while the pair lay there in harmony.  
\---

It’s 1:00am and everyone is passed out except the lil dude with the sexual tension. Gerard grins at Frank before sitting next to him on the bed. He pulls a broken cigarette from his jean pocket. Holding the crooked stick in his mouth, Gerard smirks. “This remind you of the first time we met?”

Frank rolls up one of the sleeves of his flannel as he replies. “Um sure.”

The goofy smirk on Gerard’s face drops; he snatches the unlit cigarette from his mouth and jams it back in his pocket. He swings his feet onto the bed to sit criss-cross. Frank looks to him with no expression but inside he is feeling a thousand different things. There’s a weight in his stomach like the kind you get when a teacher calls you in after class.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Gerard asks with hesitation.

“No, no, of course not,” Frank sputters.

Gerard rests his chin in his hands and stares at the ground. “Are you not…” he trails off.

Frank’s chest tightens. He doesn’t even know what he is. He just knows that he would give anything to kiss Gerard right now. Does that make him gay? Probably. But Frank has enough to deal with in his life and doesn’t have time to discover his sexuality. So he doesn’t reply he just looks at his hands.

He looks up when he hears a deep sigh. “Okay, I get it,” Gerard sits up. “You’re one of those gay people.”

Frank’s face crunches up. “Sorry, what?”

“You don’t know what you want and I can’t give it to you.”

“I’ve never been with a guy, okay? Is that what you want me to say? I don’t know when you’re flirting with me and when you’re being ironic or whatever,” Frank replies with anger in his voice.

“Don’t you get that I’m always flirting with you! You just don’t get it!”

Frank scoffs. “Yeah, sure. The last thing you would do is make out with me.”

Gerard leans in. “The last?” There is anger in his eyes and Frank fucking knows it. He’s just waiting for him to act on it.

“Yeah.”

Before Gerard knows what he did, he is on top of Frank panting. Frank tries to move his arms but Gerard has a tight hold on his wrists. Gerard’s hips press hard against his lower stomach and it’s kind of turning Frank on? Fuck. His mouth is open like he’s waiting for a kiss that will never happen. Frank swallows hard to prepare himself for a witty comment from Gerard or a chuckle, but there isn’t one. Gerard just looks at him with a slight smirk.

“How about now?” Gerard breathes.

“I’m not that fucking dumb.”

His face drops. “Do you think this is a prank?” Gerard leans in closer so his shaggy hair is nearly dangling in Frank’s face.

The feeling in the pit of his stomach, whether that be a dick thing or not, makes Frank grit his teeth. “I think you’re a pansy and you could never swallow your pride long enough to-” He is shut up by a long deep kiss.

Gerard holds Frank down with his lips. A wave of calm flows over Frank; all the fear from before, all the self-doubt and pain, melting, dissolving, disappearing. Gerard pulls away after feeling the only warmth in Frank’s body; a line of spit comes with him. Frank just stares in awe at him. Did that really just happen?

“Fuck,” Frank whispers.

Gerard paints a sly grin across his face before leaning into Frank again. The melt into each other, like the smoke in a bomb or the sour taste of a lemon. It is the perfect blend of so wrong yet so right. Frank grinds his hips into Gerard slowly as their tongues glide. The warmth from Gerard’s grip on his wrists feels good but not as good as the tongue down his throat. Gerard moves closer and moves his pink lips down Frank’s jaw. Every edge and curve of the boy’s neck is covered with kisses. When Gerard sinks his teeth gently, Frank can’t help but to let out a small groan.

Gerard takes a hand off the clutch of Frank’s wrist to push his own hair out of his face. Frank grins at him as the black mess is placed behind his ears. Gerard takes the same hand and uses it to brush Frank’s floppy side of his hair away. He looks him in the eye, just staring, studying Gerard.

“We can’t,” Frank pauses, “you can’t really give me a blow job with Ray and all them asleep.”

“Wanna bet?” Gerard grins. He moves down Frank’s body, making sure to place kisses all around his chest. When he reaches his lower stomach, he pulls Frank’s shirt up. He chuckles because now he can see how heavy Frank is breathing. He leaves sloppy spit-filled kisses all over.

Gerard looks up to see Frank’s head thrown back, his eyes are shut tight. Frank isn’t going to tell him his eyes are closed because now he can imagine a girl is sucking him off. Soon Gerard has undone the belt and melted his lips onto Frank’s semi boner. He moves his mouth up and down along with his tongue. The hot friction causes Frank to let out high pitched whines.

Gerard mumbles something over the dick in his mouth. “What?” Frank breathes.

“Shhhh,” he shushes after taking it out of his mouth.

“So- so- sorry,” Frank stutters.

Gerard rolls his eyes before moving his head back down. The quick movement of his mouth and slobbery kisses thrown in make Frank come quickly. “Shit sorry,” Frank mumbles.

He looks up to him, mouth full of cum, a line of it is dripping down his chin. Frank looks at him with scared eyes. What’s he going to do? Don’t spit on me, please. Gerard crawls back up to Frank’s face. He looks him in the eye.

“Are you going to,” he trails off because do gay guys swallow? Is that a thing? God, I’m not gay enough to know.

Gerard leans down and presses a wet salty kiss to his lips. The cum and spit end up all over their lips. Frank stares at him in awe, mouth wide open. “Did- did you just?”

He smirks and makes a deep noise from the back of his throat and spits the remainder of spit cum onto the floor. Gerard rolls next to him and stares at the ceiling, not speaking.

“What now?” Frank asks quietly.

“Now we go back to before, awkward touches and stares that are two seconds too long.”  
\---

There Lindsey and Jamia are in the basement bathroom at 2am. Jamia stares at the way Lindsey rests her back against the wall. The view of her boobs is nicer from the countertop that she is sitting on.

“So why are we in here?” Jamia asks.

Lindsey lets out a deep chuckle. “Those two gays are totally getting it on out there. I didn’t want to watch Frank, or whatever his name is, discover he’s gay.”

“I guess so,” Jamia sighs. “So when did you discover?”

“Atlantis?” she cracks a smile.

“God, you ham. No, the gay thing.”

“Oh I don’t know. I don’t remember.” Lindsey’s chest tightens. She can’t say that she thinks about Jamia all the time. She can’t say that she felt something inside herself become whole when she first saw her. She can’t say that the moment they kissed, she felt something inside her explode. So she doesn’t reply, she just looks at her hands.

She looks up when she hears a deep sigh. “Okay, I get it,” Jamia sits up. “You’re one of those gay people.” Little did she know Gerard had said the same words minutes before.

Lindsey’s face crunches up. “Sorry, what?”

“You’re not gay enough. You just want to be.”

“No, I’m not!” Lindsey tries to defend.

Jamia leans in. “Fucking prove it you lipstick lesbian.”

“I am not a lipstick lesbian!” Lindsey scowls.

“Really?” Jamia is so close that she can see the pupils in her eyes get smaller as Lindsey gets more pissed off. “Fuck a dyke.”

“Fine, I will! Who? Name them!” Lindsey’s nose is scrunched up like an angry puppy.

“I don’t know?” Jamia wants to laugh but can’t. “Me?”

Lindsey raises an eyebrow. “God, we fuck one time and you want it to mean something.” She looks away, “nothing. It meant as much to me as the gum on the bottom of my goddamned shoe! I'm not even gay so get that out of your head first." 

Jamia stares at her with glassy eyes. Lindsey’s harsh face drops when she realizes what she said. “Oh god, I didn’t mean that.”

“Fuck off,” Jamia hops off the counter and pushes past her to the bathroom door.

Now Lindsey is left alone in the bathroom with her chipped nail polish given to her by Jamia. She pushes her hair out of her face before sliding down the wall and onto the floor. The cold tile sinks into her skin as she is left to think about the past events. It was easier to just be angry then confront her feelings? Right?


	5. Next

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY IT TAKES SO LONG FOR ME TO UPDATE

The next day at school was normal. Frank woke up at the normal time, ate breakfast normally, left the house as normal, walked into period one and… shit. As soon as Frank enters, he spots Gerard and Ray chatting in the usual back corner. The hole in his stomach tells him to walk away but fuck, Ray just turned around. With a wide grin, he signals Frank over. He walks over slowly but looks at the ground. He feels like everyone knows that he spent the other night getting his dick sucked by… Gerard fucking Way. The giggles from random people are now directed at Frank. They know! They know! They know!

“Hey, Frankie!” Ray says loudly.

Frank smiles weakly at him before sliding into his desk.

“What, no hello?” Gerard chuckles.

“Hey,” he says in a monotone.

Ray and Gerard exchange one of those looks that only best friends can. Ray decides to take it from here. He leans towards Frank with his chin resting in his palms. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Frank doesn’t look at him though. The rest of the class goes by as usual. He runs off to Guitar One without even looking at the pair.  
\---

The room is hotter than usual and Frank can’t seem to get any air. He sits down next to Mikey without realizing it. He ignores the boy before Mikey whispers something. Frank tries to tune his guitar while he responds, “What do you want?” He asks harshly.

“Nothing, just said hi,” Mikey replies quietly.

Frank looks up slowly with a glare that could kill. “If you have something to say, speak the fuck up.”

He looks at him with big eyes. “I just wanted to say, thanks for hanging out with me the other day.”

“If you’re trying to get me to talk about Gerard it’s not going to work. We’re friends! Nothing else!” He fiddles with the strings angrily. “And I’m not gay.”

Mikey plays with his cut up fingers. “I never said you were gay. Why would I even think that?”

“Really?” He looks up again. “I know Gerard-” he stops. Mikey looks like he’s going to cry. “He didn’t tell you did he?”

“Tell me what?”

“Nothing.”  
\---

Lunch rolls around and it gives Frank a nauseous feeling. He knows he’s going to have to sit next to Gerard and Ray and EVERYONE ELSE. They’re going to laugh at him, he knows it.

Frank sets his lunch down quietly at the table. He doesn’t look at Gerard who is right next to him. Ray and Brendon are talking loudly about video games from across the table. Good, mundane, I like this.

“What was that game from Friday?” Ray asks.

Shit, Friday.

“Uh, Space Invaders or something,” Ryan says.

Brendon laughs his big happy laugh. “Oh my god, Ryan. We played Battle Space II!” He says as if this is a common fact.

“Whatever, you gay boy,” Ryan chuckles.

Brendon punches him in the arm playfully. “Right back at ya, poetry boy.” The pairs stupid conversations always made Frank smile.

“Speaking of gay,” Ryan locks eyes with Frank.

He swallows hard. He doesn’t know what to do. He can’t punch his way out of this. “Can’t a man get his dick su-”

He is cut off by a sharp kick in the leg. Ray raises an eyebrow. “What?”

Gerard stands up abruptly. All eyes go to him. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he mumbles. He looks Frank right in the eye before turning around.  
\---  
“Okay what the fuck?!” Frank asks once he has locked the bathroom door.

Gerard is pacing around with his hands deep in his hair. He looks as white as a ghost, like he might puke. He mutters some response.

“What?” Frank rests against the sink. “WHY DID YOU TELL THEM?!”

“I didn’t!” Gerard finally looks at him. “None of them know that we made out again. Not Mikey, not Ray, and certainly not Ryan and Brendon.”

Frank takes a deep breath. All the anger and confusion drain out of him as his breath does too. “Sorry,” he says quietly.

“Your paranoid ass is not helping me figure out our relationship either.” He can tell Gerard is still mad. His face and stature are normal but his voice is tight and scared.

The air in the room feels stale. Neither of them want to move or speak. Its dry, hardening, keeping them in one place for too long.

“So what now?” Frank asks finally.

Gerard turns around, his eyes are pinkish and his breath is fast. “I don’t know.”

“We can’t… can we?” Frank asks.

He chuckles. “Do you want to get hanged?”

“What about like, secret?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“We steal kisses and fuck sometimes. No one has to know we’re,” Frank pauses, “together.”

Gerard looks away. “No one has to know?”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Can I kiss you then?”

“Please,” Frank breathes. As if he wasn’t in control, the words escaped his lips.

Gerard leans in and presses a soft kiss to his lips. He pulls away slowly, dragging Frank with him.

“Come on, I have fruit snacks in my lunch today,” Gerard tells him.  
\---

The old room is dusty but that doesn’t stop the laughter and life seeping from it. Brendon and Lindsey are trying to play the concentration game but Brendon doesn’t know how to move his hands fast enough to clap Lindsey’s at the same time.

Frank is sitting on the desk and Gerard smiles at him from the chair. Gerard looks smaller from this angle. Normally he is a few inches taller and something about the way he carries himself adds to that. He is the most confident yet doubtful person; from here he looks soft and content. Frank is talking about his music or something. The words keep getting jumbled up in his mouth and they come out mixed up.

Ryan seemingly appears out of thin air to quiet everyone down. “Okay guys!” He says over the giggle and chatter. “Welcome to Poetry For The Soul,” he glances down at an old piece of looseleaf from inside his poetry book. “It looks like it’s Jamia’s turn to start.” He looks up to see everyone else also looking around.

“I don’t think she’s here?” Brendon says.

“Do know where she is, Lindsey?” Ryan asks.

Lindsey picks at the end of her skirt. “I’m not her keeper,” she answers quietly.

“Okay then, I’ll read it,” Ryan flips through the book before landing on the page for today. He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Lullaby by W. H. Auden,” he pauses,  
“Beauty, midnight, vision dies:  
Let the winds of dawn that blow  
Softly round your dreaming head  
Such a day of welcome show  
Eye and knocking heart may bless,  
Find our mortal world enough;  
Noons of dryness find you fed  
By the involuntary powers,  
Nights of insult let you pass  
Watched by every human love.”

Soon everyone is back to giggles and chatter. “Would you ever want to see a show with me?”Gerard asks. His fingers are lazily running through his hair.

Franks lights up. “Yeah, definitely.”

“There’s this little place across the two rivers. It’s hot, grimy, sexy,” His face is lit with excitement. “The best part is it's a gay club. No one will know who we are,” he pauses, “we’ll be safe.”

“I’d like that,” Frank grins.

Brendon peers around Ryan. The pair are speaking too softly for anyone to hear over the chatter. He can read Gerard’s lips and he knows exactly where they are going. He was never able to convince anyone to go with him. Now it looks like he doesn’t have to.

“Saturday?” Gerard asks.

“Sooner,” Frank replies.

“Tonight?”

“Tonight.”  
\---

Frank doesn’t have to do much to sneak past his grandmother. He tiptoes out the door but might have also slipped a sleeping pill in her tea. He doesn’t have a car so he waits for Gerard.

The cool air seems to wash over him as the crickets chirp in the distance. He always loved doing something a little bad; it makes his heart beat quickly and his legs feel weak. He feels the same way when he looks at Gerard. But he’s not going to tell him that.

Gerard’s old car pulls up quietly. Only one headlight works so he duct taped a flashlight to the broken side. It makes Frank smile. He slides into the passenger seat still grinning. Gerard instinctively licks his lips.

“Long time, no see,” Frank jokes.

Gerard chuckles a bit while reaching for the radio. “I know.” With a slow turn of the knob some talking starts playing from the speakers.

“I love you, Pumpkin,” a voice says.

“I love you, Honey Bunny,” another replies.

Frank raises an eyebrow. I thought gay people liked Cher?

“EVERYBODY BE COOL, THIS IS A ROBBERY!” the original voice shouts over the speakers. The car is then plunged into a fast guitar from any action movie chase scene.

Gerard lets out a faint chuckle before turning the radio up. The car speeds down the street as first fall leaves crunch under the tires.

“What is this soundtrack?” Frank asks over the music.

“Pulp Fiction,” he answers, “never seen it?” He glances over.

Frank shakes his head.

“We can watch it together soon,” he pauses, “it has a special place in my heart.”

Frank has to ask. If he doesn’t the question will dig at him until he blurts it out in the middle of kissing. “Why?”

“That’s a long story,” he replies. His right hand moves from the steering wheel and creeps onto Frank’s thigh. “But I lowkey lost my virginity while watching that movie in my basement.”

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. He’s already had sex?! Shit, I’m gonna be so fucking awkward and weird. I bet he’s going to dump me. Yeah, he’s going to fucking dump you, you fucking fag. Frank swallows hard. “Oh wow.”

“You?”

Frank can feel his heart beating loudly; a knot in his stomach makes him feel sick. “I- um I-,” then he panics, “locker room.”

“Oooo hot,” his voice has a slutty edge to it. “Wouldn’t mind reliving that?”

“Anything for you.”  
\---

The club is hot, grimy, and exactly what Frank needs. After Gerard snuck him in through the back door, the pair have been sitting on at the bar. Frank feels out of place, he’s young, a little scared, and looks like a fucking twink.

The two laugh over the loud bass for a while before someone taps Gerard on the shoulder. He sets down his drink and looks up to a tall young boy. His mouth is twisted up into a sickly smirk and his hip bones are jutting out from his leaning against the bar.

“Can I help you?” Gerard asks a bit cocky.

“I think I can help you,” the toothpick in his mouth dances.

Frank feels something in his chest weighing him down. I can’t do anything, can I? Just when he thinks he’s going to sit back and watch this boy flirt, he remembers his outfit. Right now he has on his too big leather jacket, tall boots, and clanky chains. He gets a sense of courage.

“Hey buddy,” Frank calls over the music.

The boy looks up from Gerard and locks eyes with him. “What do you want, twink?”

The courage is slowly draining out of him; he can feel his legs melting into the floor. “Leave us alone,” he manages to say.

“Us?” The boy chuckles. “Yeah, sure. I’ll believe that real easily,” his sarcastic tone digs into Frank.

“We’re here on a date, ok,” Frank’s getting angry but he can’t sock this guy in the face, that would be a major turn off.

“Like I said,” he pauses, “no. way.”

Frank doesn’t know what comes over him but he thinks of a different way to get rid of his anger. He kisses Gerard. He pulls him so close that he can feel Gerard’s heartbeat against his chest. It’s loud and fast. Their lips are seemingly glued together so long that the boy has already walked away when they unlock.

Gerard stares at him in shock; his mouth still parted as if he wanted more. “Do you- do you want to dance?” he asks unsure of the response but wanting a yes because needs to feel Frank’s hips.

The dance floor is crowded and hotter than the rest of the club. Frank doesn’t want to dance at first but when Gerard starts grinding up against him, Frank has no choice. He leans his body into him. Gerard starts running his fingers through Frank’s hair, pulling him closer. Frank moves his thighs up against him, feeling every part of his groin. Gerard lets out a soft chuckle.

“You trying to give me a handjob through my jeans with your dick?”

Frank stops moving. “I’m sorry,” he blushes.

Gerard pulls him closer by placing a hand on the small of his back. “I like it,” he whispers.

“I would rather have you come in private, god,” Frank giggles.

“Then let’s find private.”  
\---

The bathroom doors are flung open only to be slammed again. Gerard glances to see that all the stalls are empty, he locks the door and turns back to Frank. He perches on the sink with his short legs crossed at the ankle as they swing freely. Gerard walks over painfully slowly. He has a swagger in his step that Frank hasn’t seen but it makes him smile. He lets his hand gently slide up Frank’s thigh.

“So this remind you of your first time?”

Frank swallows. “Fuck, yes,” he wraps his arms around his back, pulling him in.

“Was it rough or soft?” Gerard asks as he sways ever so slightly.

His mind is racing. He doesn’t know what he wants to say. Frank wants him to fuck him rough but also gently. He wants to be out of breath and sweaty. He wants to smile while he falls asleep. He wants every version, every part, every form of Gerard.

“I’ve never- I’ve never been with a guy,” he looks away.

“Really? You? Frank Iero?” Gerard looks at him in disbelief.

He shakes his head. Gerard must have forgotten about Frank telling him this before.

Gerard dances his fingers around Frank’s pastel pink belt. “I guess I’ll have to make it perfect then.”

“We are in the bathroom of a filthy club with no lube or anything.”

“Way to ruin the moment,” Gerard laughs.

“Don’t worry,” Frank leans in, he uses all his strength not to press his lips against him. “I like it dirty.”

Gerard can’t wait any longer, he closes the distance. The warm rush of Frank’s chest against his makes Gerard pull him closer. He presses hard but it's not enough he wants more, he needs more. It isn’t long before Frank is holding back groans from the neck kisses. Gerard mixes in a perfect mix of lips and teeth. Frank likes to show that he belongs to someone and that usually means wearing hickeys proudly.

Gerard gets eager and can’t wait too much longer to feel Frank rocking against him. He pulls away and presses his forehead against his chest. The quick thumping of Frank’s heart makes his ego jump.

Gerard steps back and undoes his jeans. Frank hops off the sink and follows. He stares at the bulge in Gerard’s boxers.

Before long, Frank’s back is shoved against the graffiti covered wall. Gerard coats two fingers in saliva before moving his hand down into Frank.

The sudden feeling of Gerard’s fingers makes him let out a quiet groan. Gerard moves his fingers in and out, trying to be as gentle as possible for Frank’s first time. The lack of lube makes Frank feel a burning sensation but he likes it. Shit, I shouldn’t be turned on by pain, right? Gerard leans in and presses his lips against him as he maneuvers his fingers. The kisses are sloppy and all tongue, Frank loves the taste of him. Soon Gerard has pulled his fingers out, he grins at him.

“Do you think we can use soap?” Gerard asks.

“Sounds kinda like a bad idea,” Frank replies hesitantly. But he wants him so bad and every part of him aches from lack of touch. He breaks, “fuck it, grab that shit.”

Before long Gerard has coated his dick and the inside of Frank with the pink foam. Frank’s chest is now presses against the cold wall. God, he looks so hot with his legs spread and pants off, vulnerable and dirty.

“You good?” Gerard asks. It breaks the hot atmosphere but he would rather make sure his boyfriend is okay.

“Good.”

And with that he situates himself inside Frank. The presence of something larger than just his fingers makes Frank inhale sharply. Gerard starts out slowly rocking against him but soon he moves quicker. The harder he moves against Frank the more noises he makes. The noises alone could send Gerard over the edge. His fingernails leave long red makes on Frank’s hips, the sharp pain makes precum nearly drip on him thighs. Gerard’s heavy breathing makes the room feel like another place. Frank closes his eyes tightly to imagine someplace better, perfect. But this nagging bit of him tells him that this is perfect.

Frank’s eyes spring open when Gerard hits his prostate. It’s a sensation that Frank has never felt before and it sends a feeling down his spine. All he knows is that he wants more; he presses his hips back into Gerard. This causes them both to let out a deep moan.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so good,” Gerard breathes.

Frank tosses his head back as he grasps onto the edges of uneven brick. “I can’t last much longer,” he whines. “Don’t stop.”

A wicked smirk appears on Gerard’s face, he takes this as a challenge. He thrusts harder and faster into Frank. The whines from him get longer and louder. Gerard grips on to him tighter and works harder. Frank wishes he could see his face, the sweat and Gerard’s flushed cheeks are so amazing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Gerard mutters.

Frank has to stifle his own cursing.

He pulls out, getting cum on Frank and his own lower stomach. Gerard has to so much as brush against Frank and he is coming in his hand. The two clean up as best they can and walk out.

“Did we just do that?” Frank asks as he holds onto Gerard’s hand tightly.

“I think so?”

Upon opening the bathroom door, the pair meet face to face with someone they never thought they’d see here, Brendon.

He stops, confused yet the slight smile on his face doesn’t sit right with Frank. Brendon looks down and sees the clasped hands and then back up to the messy hair.

“Caught ya,” he smirks.


	6. Gentle Rain and Phone Calls

Frank pulls his hand away quickly as if Brendon can’t see the bruises forming on his neck. He can feel his throat start to tie itself up. Why here? Why now? Frank thought as his eyes danced around the room, looking for a way to escape.

Gerard’s hand hung low, as if he didn’t care if Brendon knew about them together, well at least that’s what Frank hoped.

Brendon clicks his tongue. “Someone got a little too friendly in the bathroom, I see.” His face is twisted into a ridiculous smirk.

“What are you talking about?” Frank says but he can't even look at Brendon. He is staring at Gerard with big sad eyes.

“Whatever, to each his own,” Brendon winks before waltzing into the bathroom.

Frank swallows hard as Gerard opens his mouth to say something but Frank doesn’t let that happen, he leaves. Frank runs out the same back door that he got in. He doesn’t know where he’s going or what time it is, he just hopes the sun comes up soon so he can catch a bus.

Once the club is out of sight he stops. Resting his hands on his knees; his chest feels on fire not from running, but from holding back his anger. Once his lungs are full again he looks around, for a sign, for a building, something. But it’s dark and every street looks like the last. Frank wraps his fingers into a fist. He doesn’t know why he’s upset, not really.

Then it hits him. He’s scared. He’s scared of Brendon telling someone and that someone telling the whole school. His grandma and then mom finding out, his dad learning that he’s gay. Frank shivered at the thought of it.

Taking a deep breath, he lets his hand relax. The heat in his stomach melts into his knees. Before he knows what hit him, he’s on the ground. The cold pavement sends a tingle through his legs, or maybe that’s the blood from landing on his knees. Frank sucks in a quick breath when his hands hit the cement. He pushes himself onto his back and closes his eyes.

He lets his hands run over his face and through his hair. The faint smell of blood makes it clear that some is in his hair. He can’t force himself to his feet though. It feels like the end of the world. God, once your dad finds out that he raised a fucking fag, you’re not gonna have an eye. Frank knows how fast rumors can spread, after all his whole school found out about Nancy Spencer within five days. He clenches his jaw tightly when he thinks about her. If he could have just not gone into that damn room both of them would still be going to the same school. Granted, she wasn’t the only reason for him moving to live with Nonna in Jersey, but she certainly helped convince his mother.

Frank doesn’t know how long he’d been there on the pavement but he must have fallen asleep at some point. A bright flashlight in his face wakes him up. A figure is standing over him saying something but Frank can’t hear him over his mind static. “What?” he manages to mumble.

“Are you okay?” a soft voice asks.

Frank would have mistaken it for a girl if he hadn’t heard that voice before. The figure kneels down next to him, flashlight facing the ground now.

“Hey, Gerard.”

Gerard doesn’t say anything but just wraps him in a tight hug. Surprised at first, but Frank does gently lace his arms around him in return. “It’s nearly three in the morning,” Gerard says, still not letting him go.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” He asks letting go.

Frank doesn’t know what to say. “I don’t know. I-I-I just thought that Brendon was going to tell everyone.”

“You’re in poetry for the soul? He already knows you’re not entirely straight,” Gerard asks confused. He rubs his hands along Frank’s upper arms like he’s trying to warm him up.

“I just thought that word of us… you know,” Frank doesn’t want to say fucking, it feels wrong in his throat. “People would know and then Nonna would, er- I mean, my grandma would know.” He always cringed when he accidentally said Nonna in front of someone.

“He’s not going to tell anyone,” Gerard says. Something about the pitch of his voice tells Frank it’s a lie, and it is.  
\---

The hours pass like days. Frank glances over at his phone on the nightstand, hoping it wouldn’t go off. But within five seconds a loud buzz sounds through the room. Frank didn’t sleep at all when he got home. Those four hours he spent staring at the ceiling trying to figure out how he can escape, dropout, leave. This town is already far too small and far too loud.

When Frank arrives to school he stands by his locker for too long just so he can waste time. Going into the first class is going to be hell and he knows it. From behind the corner he can see Jamia and Lindsey arguing about something.

“It was an accident. I didn’t mean it! You have got to understand,” Lindsey pleads. She isn’t yelling but the way she stands makes her look hurt.

“I really don’t want to hear it. All you do is prance around in your fishnets and make everyone swoon over you. You lead all the girls on with your stupid lip biting and then insist you’re straight.” Jamia is strangely calm. The words come out quiet yet strong. It even makes Frank shiver from three lockers away.

“What’s it matter that I’m straight?”

Jamia looks away and when she does she locks eyes with the gawking Frank. “No reason,” she says sternly while looking at him.

Frank looks away quickly, his eyes dart to a group of girls giggling across the hall. Why are they laughing at me? Fuck, fuck, fuck, they know! Of course they know! Everyone knows you’re a fag. Frank takes in a sharp breath and closes his locker. He closes it louder than he thought and it makes a loud CLANK radiate through the now nearly barren hall. The few people that are still there look at him, scared, confused, or just shocked.

“Sorry,” he mumbles before shoving past Jamia and into the classroom.

“Watch it,” she snaps.

“Okay, dyke,” Frank replies out of reflex.

“You’re going to let him talk to you like that?” Lindsey asks.

Jamia rolls her eyes while adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “I don’t have time to get into it with Frank Iero.”

Frank likes the bit of fear in her voice when she said that. He enters the classroom with a slight grin.

“He’s with Gerard. I don’t care if he says it,” Jamia finishes.

Frank stops in his tracks; he turns back around. “What did you say?”

“You and Gee, you’re a thing,” Lindsey adds.

“Who told you?” Frank steps closer with a low voice.

“You just did,” Jamia chuckles.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Frank sounds angry but his face gives away his fear.

“Why does it matter? After that stunt in the cafeteria, don’t you think people remember?” Jamia rolls her eyes.

“It was so loud in there that I think only a few people heard,” Frank retorts.

“So what you’re saying is,” Jamia pauses, “you think everyone cares you like dick?”

“If people learn, word will get out and Non- my grandma will find out. So keep your mouth shut,” Frank huffs.

“Gerard is kind of a loser. No one cares enough.”

Frank remembers how Brendon saw them at the nightclub. If the school found out that he had sex, much less GAY sex in a bathroom, he would be done for. “Humor me.”  
\---

Gerard can’t keep his hands off Frank. Whether he’s letting his hands move through Frank’s hair, holding his hand, putting his hand around his waist, gripping his thigh. Even at school it’s hard for Gerard to not touch him. Something about Frank’s cold touch makes Gerard want to warm him up.

Lying on his bed, he lets his fingers dance through Gerard’s hair. He swirls his hair into small greasy curls. Gerard’s head is nestled in the crook of Frank’s arm, his eyes fixated on the ceiling. The quiet noises from outside drift through the air and make both of their eyelids heavy.

“I wish we didn’t have to hide everything,” Frank says quietly with his eyes still closed.

“It’s okay. The hidden kisses make you giggle in the school bathroom between classes,” Gerard smiles.

Frank lets out a deep breath before pressing a soft kiss to Gerard’s head. “I just wish we could go somewhere and not have to deal with someone seeing. I thought that club was safe but even then.” He rests his cheek on his head.

“I know. Do you think we can tell our friends so that we can at least not pretend in front of them?”

“I’m sure Brendon told them already.”

Gerard rolls onto his stomach, resting his chin on Frank’s lower stomach. It hurts Frank but he just looks so cute there that Frank smiles. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Uhh I don’t know.”

“You’re coming to a party.”

“A what?”

“A gathering of like minded friends,” Gerard elaborates.

“I know what a party is,” Frank chuckles and it makes Gerard’s head vibrate.

“Gabe Saporta is having a halloween party, Mikey is going and there is no way in hell I’m not going with him.”

Frank made a face when he hears that name, his mouth twists up. “I- I don’t know. Gabe just-”

Gerard cuts him off. “You won’t even see him, I just want to be able to bring Mikey back to the house by midnight.”

“Can’t you just go pick him up?”

He sighs but ends it with a smile. “You don’t get it because you don’t have siblings.”

Before he can respond, a loud knock on the door makes him look up. Nonna opens it with the phone in her hand. Gerard scrambles off Frank awkwardly. She squints at the two but shakes it off. “You have a phone call.”

Frank rolls off the bed and takes the phone from her. “Grazi, Grandma.”

“Chi?” Who?

He wishes he knew more Italian so he could tell her to not bother him without Gerard knowing what he said.

“Sorry, grazie per il telefono, Nonna.” Thank you for the phone. Frank walks back into his room. “Hello?” He asks the person on the other line.

“Frank, Frank Iero,” a harsh voice replies in more of a statement than a question.

“Um, yes?”

“It’s Nancy, Nancy Spencer.”

Frank swallows hard. He hoped he wouldn’t have to hear that name again. “Oh yeah,” he chuckles awkwardly. “What’s up?”

“I’m visiting town and thought I’d pay a visit.”

“Yeah, how about not,” he says sharply.

“Oh, you must have forgotten that I know everything about you, dear,” her voice is slimy and thick.

“What do you want?” He just wants her to hang up.

“Nothing. I just want you to know that I’ll be around this weekend. You might see me, and if you do, you better do what you owe.”

And then the line goes dead. Frank nearly drops the phone but manages to collect himself.

“What was that?” Gerard asks from the bed.

“Nothing,” Frank replies coldly. “So when’s Gabe’s party again?” It’s better to be somewhere else if that lizard stops by tomorrow.


End file.
